


Diner Bash

by SpoiledAmbrosia



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Belly Kink, Copious Amounts of Breakfast Food, Feeding, Gen, Getting Stuck, Hyperfat!Wallus, Size Difference, Size Kink, Stuffing, belly stuffing, he rly biggi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 00:49:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19712926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpoiledAmbrosia/pseuds/SpoiledAmbrosia
Summary: It's a slow day until someone gets stuck in the diner entrance.





	Diner Bash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JaredFace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaredFace/gifts).



> another commission!!! banged this out in a few hours bc i went absolutely FERAL for this concept!!!

The morning rush had come and gone, and now he was watching the clock, the hours going by that much slower. Chili bent his neck to look out the kitchen’s window, idle drag of his stare surveying the dining room. A few customers were seated, their new waitress filling cups of coffee wherever she went. 

Oh,  _ yeah.  _ They’d gotten new hires, too. Made keeping up with the orders easier, something he’d been telling his boss for weeks, but after that  _ last _ fiasco, Mr. Fry’s arm had finally been twisted hard enough. The help came in almost immediately, all fresh faces and perky attitudes. It was nice. 

“Eyo, Chili?” 

Chili blinked away from the window, brows rising as he turned and looked down, his trainee recoiling back at the fryer’s fearsome crackle. Monte held the basket at arm’s length, half-full and trembling. “Is it supposed to pop that much?”

Chili snuffed, the minute raise his lips falling flat again. “Yeah, just looks scary at first.” Chili took a heaping handful of seasoned fries, loading the basket and taking it from the cautious fry cook, setting it down into the bubbling oil with a look of awe from Monte. “Fries usually go in for a few minutes, just be sure to watch ‘em. Customers are kinda picky ‘bout ‘em, but you might get a few orders here and there to make ‘em crispy.” 

Monte nodded, sighing deeply, wrist used to wipe the blonde strands from his brow. “Right, right. You make it look so  _ easy _ , dude,” Monte said in awe, daring to step closer to the fryer when Chili stepped away. Monte peeked over the oil vat, cringing back so fast Chili thought he’d been burned when the oil popped. Chili had to chuckle, feeling a bit of pity when Monte’s pink face turned cherry. 

“Give it a while, you’ll get used to it.” Chili shrugged, looking back to the window. “Or you could ask to be moved to the diner, if you want.”

Monte shook his head,  _ psshing  _ at the idea. “No  _ way _ , man. I’ve been here before, y’know, seen how that-  _ the  _ boss treats you.” Chili’s chest clenched when Monte looked up at him with a flushed grin. “I’m gonna learn the shit of this thing, about time you got some help.” 

Chili’s fingers scratched the back of his neck, lips twisting into an almost-smile, heat rising like a peppery burn in his face. “Well, uh...thanks.” Chili’s hand stuck out over Monte’s back, an awkward pause taken before he gave him a gentle pat, Monte’s beaming smile getting brighter. “...buddy.” 

Monte threw him a thumbs-up, attention back to the fryer. Soon, his shoulders were slumping, Monte flipping the half-shock of hair he had to the other side. He blew through his lips, standing on his toes to peek out the window. “It always this slow?” 

Chili shook his head, looking to a nearby bucket of potatoes. He should peel those. “Early like this, yeah.” Scooping up the peeler from the counter, Chili kicked the bucket close, grabbing a potato and skinning a long piece off. “Picks up at night, get a lot of sloshed people here on a Friday.” Chili’s mind went back to that lawyer, a warm flush coming to his face. He peeled faster, trying to push the thought out his mind. “You won’t be bored for long, don’t worry.”

Monte scoffed, lifting the basket of fries, a delighted grin on his face when they crackled golden. “As if, bro, I’ve got you here back here.” Monte gave the fries a thoughtful look, slowly lowering them back into the oil. “Be a different story if it was just me and the fryer.” 

Chili nicked a little too much potato on the slide of his blade, heart fluttering in his chest. Chili’s shoulders rose, neck buried in the bulk of his chest. “...thanks.” 

From the window, Chili heard the chime of the door, head raising and looking over shortly. “Uh, look alive. Got a customer.”

Monte went to his toes again, eyes narrowing fiercely. “What the…” His eyes grew wide, leaning closer, mouth falling lax. “Dude, look at the  _ size _ of him.” 

Chili didn’t have time to look, wished he could, Monte sounded wowed. He got up around the same time their waitress’ face had entered the window, chewing her pink perky and sneaking concerned glances behind her. 

“Um, Chili? Mr. Fry needs some help with the customer, you busy?” Ala asked, lip still between her teeth. 

Chili’s eyes narrowed, already making his way out of the kitchen. “I’m there. What’s the problem?” 

Ala’s eyes went wide, hands waving to dismiss the notion, her notepad clutched under a few fingers. “Oh, no! There’s no  _ problem _ , per say, it’s just…” 

**_“Ala! Where’s Chili!? And table five needs salt!”_ **

Chili’s eyes rolled at the familiar bark of his boss. Ala looked over her shoulder, a knot of frustration building at her brow. Her cheeks puffed, throat swelling with what looked like a shout in the making. She opened her mouth, and sighed. She made her hand into a cup around her mouth, and shouted.

“He’s  **_coming!_ ** ” Ala shook her head, some of her white curls coming loose from her massive bun. Her features reddened, nose going pink. “Yelling like that, my Goodness…” She walked away from the window, spinning on her heel and reaching through it, a salt shaker just out of reach. 

“Hand me that, honey?” She asked Monte, smiling when he passed it. “Thanks, sugar.” Her smile dropped when she looked to Chili, another sigh puffing from her chest. “God, is he always that  _ rude? _ ”

Chili made a face, opening the door to the diner. “Yeah, but, uh...yeah.” Chili looked back to Monte, tilting his head at him. “I’ll be right back, watch those fries.” 

Monte threw a thumbs-up over his shoulder his shoulder. “You got it, boss!” The kitchen’s door closed, Ala’s footsteps leaving the window. Monte gave a triumphant heave of the basket, teeth showing in his smile...then hiding behind his lips when the fries were a few too many shades darker. “Uh.. _ whoops. _ ”

True to Ala’s word, there didn’t seem to be a problem out in the diner. Chili’s eyes surveyed the floor, the few customers that’d been seated still eating, occasionally looking over their shoulders to the commotion at the entrance.

“Just- gimme that arm. Jesus, are you p _ ulling? _ ” 

“Yes, are  _ you? _ ” 

“Well, he ain’t  _ moving _ , is he?!” 

Chili watched as Ala and Mr. Fry struggled with a plump, teal arm, each of the massive limbs looking to outweigh both of them. They heaved, neither of them making the enormous body filling the doorway move an inch. The doors were fully open, wedged by the clothed, blubbery mass trying to squeeze through. Chili watched the zipper along the front of the person’s jumpsuit was pulled, all the excess force somehow not ripping it open. A nametag hung on his pillowy chest:  _ Wallus. _ Chili looked away from the corpulent expanse to the guy’s face, a mop of sea green hair framing his rotund face.

The doorframe gave a weary creak, Ala and Mr. Fry stopping at once. The guy’s sigh had the frame sounding on its last legs, the swell of his gut from his breath pressuring the glass. “Awful sorry about your door, just wanted a bite before I clock in…” He gave a trying shift of his weight, Wallus’ face growing more and more crestfallen at each worn squeak of the doorframe. 

“I’ll get out of your hair, just gotta-” Wallus placed his hands on either side of the door, Ala and Mr. Fry taken a step back. The door screeched, Wallus’ face recoiling, chin swallowed by his chubby face. “Hrn, think I’m stuck.”

Ala whispered to Chili, her face fully flushed and left panting by her attempt at freeing the hand. “You think you can pull him free? N-no offense, but he’s  _ huge! _ ” 

Mr. Fry crossed his arms, sweat beading up heavily on his brow, a harump his only response. “He had better! We’ve got a customer on our hands, and he ain’t leaving here hungry!” Dashing around Chili, the cook was shoved into motion by his boss. “Do your thing, big guy! Been awhile since you hit the gym, anyway…” 

Chili snorted through his nose, looking away from his boss and back to Wallus, a warm blush baking under his freckles. “Uhh...hey, let me just-” Chili spread his arms to gather the big guy’s arms, fingers squeezing into the giving flesh, Chili’s heart speeding up in his chest. He gave a puff of breath, squaring his feet on the floor.

“Try to suck it in, might help…” Chili heaved, and Wallus came sloshing forth, a surprised yelp squeezing out of the huge guy. Chili stopped, eyes wide under his curls, Wallus’ face showing an emerald blush. 

“You good?” Chili grunted. 

Wallus’ neck wobbled as he gulped, a slow nod sending his rolls jiggling anew. “Yeah…” 

Chili nodded, lips twisting up as he heaved again, pulling with all his might- the door squealed, so did Mr. Fry. More of Wallus’ jumpsuit crept through the burdened door frame, Chili’s arms burning with the strain, shoes planting on the floor and squeaking as he tugged.

Ala was practically bouncing on her heels as the door’s strain was lessened, Wallus’ clothed gut getting to its widest point and spilling out over the floor. “Keep it up, Chili! He’s almost free!” 

Chili’s expression was a determined one, that knowledge spurring him on. He adjusted his grip on the fully flushed - totally  _ green _ -Wallus, moving in closer and feeling the doughy press over his front. Chili hoped he couldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating. “Last one, give me a second,” Chili hiked his arms under the guy’s armpits, feeling his biceps swell against his tee’s sleeves. A grunt stuck in Chili’s throat as he stepped backwards, feeling the pressure begin to let up, the work of pulling him through getting easier. 

Chili almost tripped when the guy’s gut came free, Wallus making a bashful noise when his arms curled around him, steadying himself. Chili’s chest puffed against Wallus’ front, looking past his bangs to the guy’s jade face. “That good?”    
  
Wallus’ hips shifted in the door, his legs still outside, but at least they could see past the frame again. “Yeah, yeah I think I’m...good now. Thanks a lot, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” Wallus’ arms braced on the floor, rising up, and rising up, and -  _ woah. _

Chili’s expression matched Ala and Mr. Fry’s, the three of them staring way up at the gigantic man, having to hunch over just to avoid his head striking the ceiling; if he stood up fully, Chili didn’t doubt his head would go straight through. Wallus’ gut gave a wobble when his hands fell over it’s girth, a hungry grumble deep within that unbelievable tank. “Guess I just would’ve been stuck.” 

Ala’s face was fully red, her eyes to the floor like that was the most interesting thing. “Goodness...w-well! Let me get you seated!” A worried look pulled onto her face, looking at one of their booths, then back to Wallus. “Actually, let me rearrange a few things. Uh, follow me!” Ala beckoned Wallus after her as she skipped off, leaving Mr. Fry and Chili to gawk after him. 

“Christ, he’s as huge as Botch’s kid!” Mr. Fry exclaimed under his breath, turning around a pointing a demanding finger up at Chili. “You know the drill. Get a couple of breakfast trays ready for him and-”   
  
Chili was already walking back to the kitchen, waving his boss off, nodding his head. “Yeah, yeah, keep ‘em comin’. I  _ know. _ ” Looping around the counter, Chili caught a glimpse of Wallus before heading back to the kitchen; Ala, poor girl, was struggling with moving the table. Wallus’s hand was enough to shove it out, Chili seeing her face go pink from where he stood. Chili’s shoulders fell, swinging open the kitchen door. “Lucky…” 

The kitchen smelled burnt, Monte’s back to him and one of his hands in a bowl of  _ too  _ dark fries, his other hand checking another basket of fries. Chili watched with a frozen interest as Monte’s hand led from the bowl to his mouth, a murmur of joy in the kitchen. “Hm, that’s not half bad.” Chili watched him grab another handful, his heart beating faster at how quickly he grabbed another bunch.

Chili announced himself with a cough, Monte jumping in his skin, peeking over his shoulder with his cheeks full and his lips hanging over with fries. “Uhh-” 

Chili waved him down. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, you-”  _ Need it _ , is what he wanted to say. Chili’s throat dipped, hidden eyes roaming over Monte’s wide back, the ties of his apron engulfed by his thick love handles. “Can have ‘em. Mr. Fry doesn’t like burnt fries going out, anyway.” 

Monte wore a bashful look, mouth too full to properly smile. He worked down the mouthful, swallowing thickly. “Sorry, left the house without breakfast, they looked so  _ good. _ ” Monte slapped his own hand from going back for another handful, chastising himself. “You get that guy’s order? I don’t know if we have enough back here!”   
  
Chili shook his head, going over to the griddle and firing it up. “Nah, boss said to get him a few breakfast trays to start him off.” The fridge was his next stop, opening it up and grabbing a couple of essentials; few cartons of eggs, a whole ham, a slab of bacon, and all the butter he could carry. Chili grabbed the bread from the cabinets on his way back to the griddle. “Just keep an ear out for Ala,” Chili said, grabbing his trusted spatula, twirling the worn grip in his hand. “I’ve got this.”

Monte looked back to the fryer. “You got it. Man, did you see him? I mean, you helped in it, but Jesus, he’s _ huge.  _ Gotta be the biggest guy I’ve ever seen, how about you?” 

Chili cracked a couple of eggs onto the buttered griddle, but it was his face that felt like it was sizzling. “...Yeah.” 

Chili slapped the ham onto the cooler side of the griddle, taking a knife and making thick slices out of it, laying them out next to the frying eggs. The toast went buttered side down, the whole loaf laid out over the griddle. Chili was cranking salt and pepper over the eggs and flipping them by Ala’s fluffy pile of hair filled the kitchen window, her notepad filled with her hasty scribbling.

“Okay, guys, buckle in. I’m gonna need-” Ala’s eyes went to the griddle, Chili giving her an acknowledging raise of his spatula. “Oh,” she muttered, gap-toothed smile on show. “Exactly that, actually.” Fingers playing on the ledge of the window, she looked bashful, hiding all but her eyes. “Throw a few pancakes on there for the guy, would you?” 

Chili raised a brow, looking back at her, the girl shrinking under his glance. “He ask for pancakes?” 

Ala’s eyes were her tell, but Chili didn’t press her before she ran off, calling out a hurried  _ “thank you!”  _

Monte chuckled, taking a bit of his burnt fries. “Pancakes  _ are _ a breakfast staple, y’know.” Chili was inclined to agree. “Big guy’s like that’s gonna need a few more than a stack.” Monte said, more of an obvious statement, but it had Chili’s pulse quickening all the same. Before long, the griddle sizzled with the pour of batter.

It wasn’t long until the first -  _ first _ , Chili wasn’t done yet - of trays left the kitchen through the window, Ala’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the hearty spread. “I mean, he  _ is _ a big guy…” She’d struggled with it, a balancing act necessary to keep everything in place. Chili held up a hand, grabbing it by the corner. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Ala, I’ve got it.” 

Ala made a face, presumably looking back to Wallus before she gave a sigh, letting go of the tray. “ _ Aww, _ I really wanted to-” It seemed to dawn on her that she was speaking aloud, her pink face visibly getting redder. “ _ I mean _ \- oh,  _ what? _ ” She cupped her hand around her ear, hearing nothing.

Monte tilted his head. “I don’t hear-”

“More coffee? C-coming!” Ala ran off. 

Back opening the door for him, Chili walked out into the diner, immediately spotting where Wallus had been set up by Ala. The table had been moved out of the booth itself, currently filled to the brim with Wallus’ enormity, Ala chatting up the big guy with her blush drenching her features in red. Chili caught the tail end of their conversation as he approached.

“-pie here is ah-maze-zing! You’ve gotta try a piece, it’s so- Chili!” Ala backed away from the table, grinning big with her hands behind her back, unsurprisingly without her pot of coffee. “I’m just gonna- grab something!” Ala dashed off, making a beeline back to the kitchen window. 

Chili adjusted his grip on the tray, setting it down on the table shoved into the walkway. “Got some more coming, like it?” 

Wallus’ neck wobbled with his hungry swallow, shaking his head as his gut groaned, his pudgy fingers sinking into the swell trapped behind his zipper. “Y-yeah, been a while since I had a good spread.” Wallus’ fingers picked up his fork, comically small in his hand, stabbing through a chunk of bacon with a ravenous lick of his lips. “Looks  _ really _ good, too.” 

Chili’s chest tightened, puffing out proudly. “Thanks, I’ll get you another tray in a bit.” 

Wallus’ eyes were shut, mouth already full of bacon and eggs. They opened, blinking down at Chili. “Another? Y-you really don’t have to, this’ll-”

Chili waved him off, already walking back to the kitchen. “Promise, you’re gonna love it.” 

Wallus gave a quiet noise of agreement, munching around a slab of toast. “Okay then…” 

The second tray was set right on top of the first, nothing but crumbs and salt on the spread. Chili’s eyes were right on Wallus’ gut, not  _ quite _ a swell there, _ yet. _ Clearing his throat, Chili stood straight, gesturing to the spread to the rapt expression of Wallus. “Dig in, big guy.” 

Wallus’ fork wavered over his hash browns. “Y-yeah, okay. Is-” Chili was turning to leave, stopping on his heel and looking back to the flushed green man. Wallus avoided his stare, taking a nervous bite of his sausage, juice spilling over his lips and licked away. “Is there any more?” 

Chili’s lips rose into a smile, a confident nod making green burst over Wallus’ face. “ _ Plenty, _ big guy.” 

The third tray was soon to join the stack on Wallus’ table, Ala’s lips curling over her teeth as she set it down, bouncing back with a friendly smile on her face. A huge omelet sat at the corner of the tray; an appetizing medley of peppers, tomatoes and ham decorated it, a hefty sprinkle of cheese melting over it all. Waffles, blueberries in the divots and coated with powdered sugar, dripping with syrup. A pile of bacon sat next to them, crispy and curling beautifully.

“You’ve got lots more, so eat up! Can’t have you going to work  _ starved _ , now can we?” 

Chili nodded, jutting a thumb to the girl. “She’s got the right idea, buddy.” 

Chili’s eyes were stuck on the zipper along the man’s front, looking decidedly more  _ strained  _ than it had been earlier. Wallus let one of his hands traveled down his front, an unsure look on his face as he took another bite, swallowing hard - Chili and Ala followed the bob of his neck rolls, his belly  _ shoving  _ out against his jumpsuit. “I mean, if you say so, it is good.” 

Ala let out a bubbly, infectious laugh, slapping her hand over Chili’s forearm. “Course it is! We’ve got the best cook in town behind the griddle here!” 

_ “Hey.” _ Ala’s expression froze at the sound of Monte’s voice, blinking out of her daze to look behind her, she and Chili both spreading apart when Monte came carrying a fourth tray. A pitcher of orange juice was set down next to the tray, hash browns, crispy chicken covered with a steaming drizzle of gravy, puffy biscuits and what had to be an entire dozen of scrambled eggs at the center of the tray. Chili whistled, kid did good.

“I am _learning_ , y’know.” Monte’s smile was beamed up at Chili, the fry cook’s face growing bashful under the attention. “From the _very_ _best_ in town, might I add,” he said, looking Ala’s way with a playful grin. 

Standing back, Monte’s hands set on his hips, smile threatening to split his face at the sight of Wallus struggling to decide which tray to eat from. “Hope you enjoy, big guy!” 

Wallus’ eyes raced from one of the staff to the next, each wearing a blazing flush. “You guys don’t think-” Wallus gulped. “You could help me with this, do you?”

  
To say they all jumped at the opportunity would be the understatement of the  _ century.  _

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoied!!!!


End file.
